


Bunny Rabbit Boy

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"John’s hood was too long, like a windsock gone wrong. You joked that he’d trip over it, even if he got his floaty groove on. He laughed and smiled, nose wrinkling in that bunny rabbit way with those bunny rabbit teeth showing. You said it was just long enough to tie his wrists with it, or rope it around his neck as a makeshift leash to lead with. He laughed then too, but his teeth didn’t show and his nose didn’t wrinkle. There was a nervousness to it, and that was like a bunny rabbit enough for you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bunny Rabbit Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSpaceCoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/gifts).



> The other week there was some beautiful art floating about with Dave being possessive, which you can find [here](http://eyecandyburns.tumblr.com/post/14264775040/remember-about-that-post-where) and [here](http://racheme.tumblr.com/post/14525406324). On account of TheSpaceCoyote and me have a mutual appreciation for the theme, I wrote her some for Christmas.

John’s hood was too long, like a windsock gone wrong. You joked that he’d trip over it, even if he got his floaty groove on. He laughed and smiled, nose wrinkling in that bunny rabbit way with those bunny rabbit teeth showing. You said it was just long enough to tie his wrists with it, or rope it around his neck as a makeshift leash to lead with. He laughed then too, but his teeth didn’t show and his nose didn’t wrinkle. There was a nervousness to it, and that was like a bunny rabbit enough for you.

He laughed when you took his hood in hand, carefully winding it around him as though he were a maypole, his giggles somewhat stifled when you wrapped it over his mouth. They stopped altogether, shifted and hitched higher in his throat when you forced his hands behind his back, wove the end of the hood around his wrists. Your lips moved silently with the mnemonic Bro had taught you for the knot, jaw setting as you gave a solid yank for the sake of security.

In the game, you were all playing against the house, no amount of stacked odds or blessings from Lady Luck able to change a single goddamn thing. Each chip was being painfully ripped from your hands that tried to shield, stolen away by a blackjack dealer with a just as black face and a heart to match. John was the very last chip you had left.

Going big or going home wasn't an option. Home was stricken from the record, a hazy fever dream in your mind you yearned to return to. Going big was code for the big sleep, the great dirt nap. In the game there was only fighting and death─ neither of which could be avoided, merely postponed.

So that was the plan. You hold onto that last chip as long as possible, no more roulette or craps or Texas hold 'em. Only John and his bunny rabbit nose and his bunny rabbit teeth, and his bunny rabbit heart pitter-pattering under your palm as you leaned in to press your lips to the beading droplet of sweat at the corner of his eye.

John couldn't handle the heat, always the windy kid from the West. Here his skin was flushed a shade similar to the lava that was forever flowing below the two of you. He shivered when you touched him, because that's how cool you were. Ice cold. The only relief in this hellish place, this horrible world.

John would get used to it, just like you did. He'd stop thinking, worrying, head reeling with thoughts of trolls and guardians and friends from the past. They'd been swept away one-two-three by fate's far-reaching dice stick. He'd cease to shake his head and cringe at the word 'mine,' a word that flowed from your lips as easily as it did his name. Whispered sweetly or lowly growled without awareness, like the sounds that tumbled forth from someone speaking in their sleep.

It would blend into the background of John's subconscious, a non-issue along with the gears and warmth and red. It would take time, but that was one thing you had on his side. That was all you needed anymore, really. No more sick beats or slick rhymes, no more ironic blogs or featureless forms floating in jars. You only needed time.

Time, and your bunny rabbit boy.


End file.
